Let You Go
by Lia76
Summary: Sam's desperate to make things right regarding the time he had no soul. Dean doesn't like it one bit, especially when things go very wrong, and makes a choice against Bobby and Castiel's advice.  Follows Season 6 ep: "Mannequin 3:The Reckoning."  Spoilers
1. Chapter 1

Follows Season Six's episode: "Mannequin 3: The Reckoning"

**Let You ****Go**

"So… you didn't tell me how you left it with Lisa and Ben," Sam said as he and Dean drove down the deserted highway, breaking the oppressive silence that Sam could no longer stand.

Dean's hands tightened on the steering wheel and his jaw muscles flinched.

"Don't want to talk about it," Dean mumbled a moment later.

"It went_ that_ well, huh?" Sam asked, hoping to entice Dean into further conversation.

It didn't work.

"S-_am_," Dean warned, his jaw muscles flinching again.

"Just tell me one thing, Dean," Sam said, pausing before continuing," Did it not go very well because once again… you chose me over them?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean asked through clenched teeth without taking his eyes off the road.

"Which makes no sense since I know you can't tell me that the year you spent with them wasn't one of, if not _the_, best year of your life!" Sam said.

"I thought you were dead, Sammy! So, no, IT WAS NOT THE BEST YEAR OF MY DAMN LIFE!" Dean yelled, losing the battle with keeping his cool.

"But you can't deny that the three of you were a family and you had a job…a home…friends even!" Sam reminded his older brother. "I'm just saying… there's no reason you can't all be a family again because I'm okay now."

Without warning, Dean yanked the steering wheel to the right and slammed on the brakes, effectively screeching the car to a halt in about 2 seconds flat.

"What the hell, Dean?" Sam yelled after he righted himself in the seat.

"You're going to say 'what the hell' to _me_?" Dean asked in disbelief as he opened his driver's side door and practically jumped out.

Sam stepped out of the Impala as well and joined his brother on the other side of the car.

"News flash, Sammy! You are not okay! _Nothing_ since Lucifer hijacked your body has been okay with you!" Dean exclaimed.

"Dean…," Sam began to reply.

"Don't _Dean_ me either! Or was that little involuntary visit to hell you had a few days ago a walk in the park? Because don't think I don't notice that it's still affecting you!" Dean yelled.

"I'm fine, Dean," Sam answered, despite his voice giving him away.

"Really? You don't have a freakin' migraine AS we speak? You also going to tell me that you didn't eat anything for dinner tonight because you're worried about your girlish figure?" Dean said.

Sam sighed.

"I can handle it," Sam answered as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Really? Is that how we roll now? Every man for himself?" Dean asked in disbelief.

Sam didn't answer.

"I ask again, what the hell is going on?" Dean asked before it hit him like a ton of bricks.

"Hold on a damn minute. You're going to keep at it, aren't you? Keep poking at that hornet's nest of memories… to try and make everything that you did while you had no soul okay? And you want to get rid of me so nothing stands in your way?" Dean asked in utter disbelief.

"It's not like that-," Sam attempted to reply.

"Let me finish! What about this is _so _damn hard to understand? It's going to kill you, Sammy! I _told _you that! Once that dam that's keeping your soul together breaks…there may be no bringing you back from the memories of the torture when you were in hell! And not to mention _once_ again…that what you did when you had no soul…it wasn't you! You're not responsible! So just leave it the hell alone!" Dean exclaimed.

"No! _You_ don't get it, Dean! It _was_ me! Soulless, yes, but it was me who did God knows what to God knows how many people! I'm going to figure it out AND I'm going to do _whatever _I can to fix it! And let's not forget that YOU were the one who shoved my soul back into me…gave me back my conscience! Did you really expect that I would leave it all alone?" Sam exclaimed back.

"This is exactly why I didn't want you to find out! Damn Castiel!" Dean yelled.

Sam sighed, closed his eyes, and for a moment put his hand to his temples. Dean recognized it as a classic move his little brother did when his migraine got even worse.

"Look, I don't want to argue with you, Dean. I don't. I'm glad I have my soul back and I thank you for that. You shouldn't have tried to keep it from me, but that's water under the bridge now. I know about it and I'm not going to let it go. But I do need y_ou_ to let go," Sam said softly.

"Let go of what?" Dean asked.

"Me. Let _me_ go, Dean. I'm going to do what I have to do…and you…you go back to your life. You deserve it, _please_," Sam said.

Dean shook his head again.

"Let you go so you're free to kill yourself?" Dean asked incredulously. "Is that what you think _you _deserve? "

"It's not like that-," Sam answered, his voice again betraying the truth.

"It wasn't you, when you had no soul. But it _is_ you _now_. And from this point on we can start working together again and fight to find-," Dean replied.

"No," Sam said with a shake of his head. "I have to take care of this."

"So that's it, then? No more discussion? Who's going to bail you out if you get into trouble? Or…or watch your back if you have another blackout? Dean asked. "Please, Sam. We can think of another way…maybe meet somewhere in the middle-."

"No," Sam said again. "There is no middle. And I know if I stay with you, you'll do everything you can to keep me safe…and I appreciate that…but this time? This time, that's not what I need. I"ll be okay, I promise."

"Really," Dean said as his jaw muscles flexed again. "So if you get me back to the life _you_ think I want with Lisa and Ben, you think I'll just forget about you? Another news flash, Sammy. That life wasn't for me. Never will be and I'm NOT going to let you do this to yourself."

Sam sighed yet again and leaned against the Impala.

"You have always taken good care of me, Dean. But it's time for me to take care of business on my own. I'm sorry. That's just the way it is. I really don't know what else to say," Sam answered.

"Like hell," Dean muttered before punching Sam in the face, effectively rendering his little brother on conscious.

After carefully placing Sam's tied up body in the back seat, Dean slipped back into the driver's seat and pulled out his cell. After dialing, he waited for an answer that he had no doubt would come.

"Yeah?" a man's impatient voice barked in response.

"Spruce up the panic room, Bobby. You're about to have a guest again," Dean said into the phone.

"What happened now?" Bobby asked.

"Sam. The wall around his soul is starting to crack because he won't leave well enough alone. Won't listen to me that what happened while he was soulless wasn't his fault. I need him on lock down until I can figure out how to convince him-." Dean replied.

"Is he soulless again? Possessed? Or have something else supernatural up in him?" Bobby asked after a pause.

"No," Dean answered, confused what the older man was getting at.

"So he's making this decision on his own?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah, so what?" Dean asked, getting annoyed now.

"Can't help you," Bobby replied. "My panic room is not a place for you to simply hole him up in there because you don't like what he wants to do."

"I'm panicking, Bobby! How about that? Is that good enough reason to use your PANIC ROOM?" Dean yelled into the phone.

"Look, Dean. You gotta stop doing this, trying to control Sam. He's going to do what he wants in the end, just like you always do…just like your dad always did. I've learned that in my old age. Otherwise I would have locked up you and Sam in my panic room for a long time now. But it ain't my place, as much as I love you both like sons, just like it aint' your place," Bobby said.

"Are you saying we can't come?" Dean asked angrily.

Bobby sighed.

"You can come Dean. I ain't going to turn you two away. Just…oh hell. Never mind. See you in a few hours," Bobby said before hanging up.

Dean ended the call and threw his phone on the floor. He turned his key in the ignition and floored the gas pedal, hoping the faster he went, the faster his anger would subside…

* * *

><p>Slowly Sam's surroundings came back to him. His head throbbed, thanks to Dean punching him unexpectedly in the face. Why the hell had Dean punched him? His wrists and arms also hurt…had he been tied up? Sam recognized that he was on a bed…and the room was so dark he could see little.<p>

"Dean?" Sam called out.

No answer.

Sam wondered where he was and felt around him, finding a small table next to the bed and blessedly a lamp. After finally turning it on, he took in the surroundings. He was obviously in one of the typically crappy motel rooms they usually stayed in. And he was alone. His bags layed on the other queen bed. As did a white piece of paper. Groaning with the movement, Sam sat up, leaned over the grab the note and began to read.

"Sam,

You say I have to let you go. Bobby agrees, saying that I gotta stop trying to control you. How do I do that? How do I just turn it all off? I don't know if I can. So for now…let's just leave it at this-

See you later.

Dean."

Sam read and re-read the short letter a few times before finally gently putting it down on the table. His first instinct was to call Dean. See where he was at and if he was okay.

But he didn't.

Sam knew he couldn't. After all, isn't this what he told Dean he wanted?

The End

Thanks for reading and reviewing!


	2. Chapter 2

_Two Weeks Later…_

Dean had pulled over on the side of the road an hour ago. And for that hour he had been looking at his phone, stalling. He knew it was pathetic. He should just call. Just a simple phone call. No big deal, right? Then why did it feel like such a big deal? With a sigh, Dean finally hit the send button and waited.

"Hey, Bobby," Dean said as casually as he could into his cell phone.

"Dean," Bobby answered on the other side of the line.

"Uh, how's the shop going?" Dean asked a moment later as Bobby didn't do anything to further their conversation.

"Just peachy," Bobby answered in his usual sarcastic tone before going silent again.

"That's good. That's good," Dean repeated twice without even realizing it.

"Oh for the love of Pete!" Bobby yelled into the phone, causing Dean to jump. "Just ask me already!"

"Ask you what?" Dean asked back, although it wasn't hard to guess.

"You're calling me because you want to know if Sam called me and how he is…just like _he_ wanted to know and was ALSO beating around the bush INSTEAD of just coming out and asking when he called me about _you_ from Nashville yesterday!" Bobby finished.

"Sorry," Dean said, because he wasn't sure what else to say and because it was true anyway.

"What the hell is going on?" Bobby asked. "You were going to bring him here and then the two of you never showed…and now, what? Now you two aren't even together?"

"It seemed like the only thing to do," Dean answered with a sigh. "He wanted to take care of stuff without me being around and you told me to stop controlling him…"

"Oh, hold up just a minute, boy! Don't try and pin _any _of this foolishness on me!" Bobby answered angrily.

"Bobby-," Dean began before the older man cut him off.

"You two have me feeling like a kid of two divorced parents! I ain't gonna pass messages between the two of you! You want to know how he is? I'll tell you the same thing I told him. Call and ask! AND I'M DOING JUST DAMN FINE SINCE YOU FORGOT TO ASK!" Bobby exclaimed before slamming down the phone.

Dean's eyes widened and then he too ended the call. Now how the hell was he going to know what the hell was going on with Sam without _seeming_ like he was trying to find out what the hell was going on with Sam? At least he knew Sam called Bobby… and was asking about him. Dean smiled at Bobby's reaction as he turned the ignition. Bobby had said once that he would never replace his house phones with cellular phones. Dean knew it wasn't because Bobby was trying to stall the overtaking of technology…although he knew Bobby didn't like that either. No, Bobby liked his many phones because pushing the "end" button on a cell phone had no where near the same effect to drive a point home as slamming down the receiver. Call Sam? No, Dean had another idea.

_The next day…_

Although he was exhausted from driving through the night, Dean got a second wind as he neared a crappy motel that he was _sure_ Sam was staying at. He had called a few in the area and asked for certain names that Sam commonly used and he had hit the jackpot, or so he hoped. Dean parked a block down the street under some trees and waited to catch a glimpse of his little brother. Just a glimpse and then he'd leave Sam alone…

"Hey. Hey!" Dean jumped at the yelling and squinted out his driver's side window at the face of his _very_ pissed off little brother. Damn, he had fallen asleep. Not good. Dean gave an apologetic smile and stepped out of the Impala.

"Hey yourself, Sammy boy. Fancy meeting you here," Dean replied as he studied Sam's face while trying _not_ to look like he was studying his face.

"What the hell, Dean?" Sammy yelled after glancing around and making sure no one was nearby. "I told Bobby you didn't need to come, that I was fine-,"

"Wait, what? What do you mean?" Dean asked, concerned now.

Dean watched Sammy's expression turn to one of confusion.

"Bobby told you what I said when I called him so you came out to see me, right? But you didn't have to, it was nothing-," Sam replied.

"Bobby didn't tell me jack! Told me to call you and stop putting him in the middle," Dean said. "So I thought I'd take a peek at how you were doing instead of calling. Right or wrong, that's what I decided. Now you have me freakin' glad I did. What happened?"

Sam shoved his hands in his pockets and looked away for a moment.

"Don't," Dean said. "Don't lie to me either. You owe me that."

Sam sighed.

"Fine," Sam replied. "It happened again."

"What happened again?" Dean asked.

"_It_," Sam answered.

"Oh," Dean said, understanding now as his heart began to race in anticipation of the answer to his next question. "How long this time?"

Sam sighed again.

"At least ten minutes or so," Sam answered truthfully.

"Crap," Dean mumbled. "Can we go to your room and talk? I don't want to have this conversation here. Then I promise I'll leave…if you want me too."

"Fine," Sam conceded.

After they were both in the room, Sam poured Dean a cup of coffee and then one for himself. It tasted like crap to Dean, but caffeine was caffeine.

"Tell me everything," Dean requested. "And I mean_ everything_."

"Not much to tell," Sam explained as he sat down on the edge of one of the beds. "Yesterday, I checked the clock at 1:30 PM because I had an appointment coming up at 2:00 with the librarian at the local library. She was going to help me with some research. I had found some leads that I had come through here, possibly on a case. Next thing I know I'm on the floor with a blinding headache. When I could get up without the dizziness knocking me back down, the clock said 1:48. I cancelled the meeting with the librarian and rescheduled it for today. That's when I saw you sleeping in your car nearby."

"Let me get this straight," Dean said, trying to keep his anger at bay. "You were out for at least ten minutes with hell streaming through your mind the whole time…and you called Bobby instead of me? And told him it was no big deal? Tell me how this is no big deal!"

"Calm down, Dean. I didn't want... I called him not to talk about me, but to ask about you, all right? I wanted to know if you were okay, that's all," Sam explained.

"My being okay was never in question! Come on, Sammy. Wake up! This is getting worse! Much worse! You were only out two minutes last time and now it's ten! And you still think you being alone is a smart idea? How do you feel now? Because you look like crap! And do you finally want to tell me about your memories of hell? " Dean asked.

"Dean, please. One question at a time?" Sam asked as he closed his eyes for a moment before continuing. "This changes nothing. Whatever is going to happen with me is going to happen regardless of what I do. This only shows me that I need to get things done faster before it's too late."

"What the hell are you saying? Do you hear yourself? Do you know words are coming out of your mouth right now that are total and absolutecrap?" Dean asked.

"I'm sorry if it's not what you want to hear. Thanks for stopping by and checking up on me," Sam said with finality as he stood.

"I'm not going anywhere now. Try and make me leave," Dean decided as he crossed his arms.

"Fine, you stay and I'll leave," Sam said as he tried to move past Dean.

"No way, Sammy," Dean said as he grabbed Sam's arm. "No way."

Sam stepped back and ripped his arm free of his brother's grasp.

"Please, Dean. I can't do this now. I need to meet with the librarian," Sam exclaimed as he quickly rubbed his temples.

"No," Dean said again.

"You said you would leave if I wanted you to," Sam reminded him.

"Well, I lied," Dean answered matter of factly.

"Whatever, Dean. Do what you want-."

Dean watched as Sam suddenly dropped to the floor midsentence and after convulsing for a moment, was still.

"Not again, Sammy! Not again!" Dean yelled in helpless frustration as he rushed to his brother's side.

Sam's eyes remained eerily open and Dean found he could do little again but watch and wait. Fifteen minutes later, Dean leaned over Sam for the millionth time trying to discern if his little brother was close to coming around. He got his answer.

Thwack!

"Son of a bitch!" Dean exclaimed in pain as a hard punch from Sam came out of nowhere and hit him in the face. He tumbled back onto the floor and was moments later fighting off more punches from Sam.

"Sam! Stop!" Dean yelled after he managed to stand and pushed his brother off him. The reprieve didn't last long when Sam lunged for him again and slammed him against the wall. Dean tried to stop as many punches as he could while trying to push his brother off of him again. Sam looked crazy, muttering something Dean didn't understand, and breathing heavily. Finally, Dean was able to push Sam off of him and swing him around into a choke hold. "I SAID STOP!"

Dean felt Sam go limp in his arms and he lowered him gently to the floor before letting go. Still breathing heavily and with eyes wide, Sam looked quickly around the room.

"Are you okay? Look at me!" Dean yelled as he grabbed Sam's face.

Sam's eyes finally locked with Dean's and Dean could tell he only now really noticed him.

"Uh," Sam began before his voice faultered. "What…what happened?"

Dean helped Sam stand and walk over to sit on the bed.

"Another trip to hell already? And this, this was much MUCH worse than before. You okay now?" Dean asked, even though he knew it was a stupid question, as he rubbed his sore jaw.

"I think I'm going to hurl," Sam stated before lowering his head between his knees.

"Just relax, okay?" Dean said as he handed Sam a glass of water off of the nearby nightstand. "It's going to be okay. It is,"

Dean wasn't sure if he was saying that to reassure him or Sam.

"What, what happened?" Sam asked again after he took a gulp and handed it back to Dean.

"You went down for like fifteen minutes and came back swinging," Dean said simply. "Like you didn't even recognize me or where you were."

"I…I didn't," Sam stated as he slowly stood. "Wow, that…uh…that was-."

"Yeah," Dean finished for him. "You still want me to get lost?"

Sam didn't answer, instead rushing to the bathroom to throw up.

"Crap," Dean muttered again as he again rubbed his jaw.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Dean watched Sam walk slowly back from the bathroom, noting that his little brother was obviously avoiding looking back at him.

"Sam-," Dean began.

"Don't," Sam cut him off sharply. "_Don't_ say anything else."

Sam ran a shaking hand through his hair before wrapping his arms around himself. A moment later he quickly dropped them before grabbing his coat off of the nearby chair and shoving his arms into it.

"What are you doing? You...you _still_ want to see the librarian?" Dean asked in disbelief, deciding to ignore Sam's rapid change in mood. "Fine. Whatever. Let's go."

"Like I said before, y_ou're_ not going anywhere," Sam answered. "_I_ am."

"Sam-," Dean said.

"I SAID SHUT UP!" Sam yelled.

Dean flinched slightly at the sudden outburst, but did not speak again.

"AND STOP LOOKING AT ME!" Sam yelled again before heading for the door.

Dean beat him to it.

"Get...out...of...my..way!" Sam growled through clenched teeth.

"No," Dean dared to say.

Sam yelled in frustration and without warning charged at the nearby nightstand, yanked the lamp out of the wall, and threw it at Dean's feet with a crash.

"You're not going to get rid of me, Sammy," Dean responded. "Not after all that has happened now. I'm sorry. That's just how it's gonna be."

With another frustrated yell, Sam pulled the picture off of the wall to the right of him and threw it against the other wall. The glass and the frame smashed before falling to the carpeted floor. Still Dean did not move away from the door. Sam turned next to the mirror over the desk and rammed his fist into it. The glass splintered on the impact, but the mirror stayed on the wall and mostly intact. Angry at this, Sam pulled back for another strike when Dean stalled his arm.

"STOP!" Dean ordered.

Sam finally did step away from the mirror and wiped his bloody knuckles on his shirt. Dean watched as Sam next sat down on the bed and appeared to study the cut skin on the front of his hand.

"Blood," Sam mumbled as he looked at his brother, tears in his eyes now. "There was a lot of blood in hell. Do you remember that, Dean? That no matter how much they hurt you and no matter how much you bled, there was always more blood? And it was _hot_. Wasn't it _damn_ hot? I guess you can't get any hotter than being _set_ on fire. _So_ glad I remembered _that_ little happy memory."

Dean sat down next to his brother, but decided against saying anything. He hoped Sam, sarcasm or not, would continue on his own.

"It's amazing how...how _bad_ things can get when…when the normal rules don't apply, you know? And that was only from being down for a little bit. Imagine," Sam said with a smile that was devoid of any humor. "_Imagine_ when I remember it all."

Dean sighed and dared to put his arm around his brother's shoulder. And this time, he was beyond relieved that Sam did not shrug him off.

**_The next morning…_**

"I'm going to try and convince him to come with me to see you, Bobby. I promise, no panic room, but we do need to regroup. This is progressing faster than I think any of us anticipated, even Sam," Dean said from just outside the door to their motel room.

"You think he's gonna agree to that?" Bobby asked skeptically.

"This past episode really shook him up, Bobby, and rightfully so. This time, I think...I hope that he'll say yes," Dean explained.

"How bad was it?" Bobby asked a moment later.

Dean sighed.

"After he tried to rearrange my face and then _did_ rearrange our room," Dean replied. "he started to tell me a little about what it was like for him, but he wouldn't or…or couldn't go into much detail. I can relate to that, you know? But it must have been...just think...I was down under for three months, but Sam was there for a _year_. Not to mention having Lucifer as a cell buddy."

"I hear you. Well, see you soon," Bobby replied. "We'll figure it out. Just like we always do somehow."

"Thanks, Bobby," Dean said before hanging up the phone.

Dean ended the call a moment later and walked back into the room to find Sam was awake and sitting up in bed.

"How'd you sleep?" Dean asked. "You feel okay?"

"Truth?" Sam asked with a yawn.

"Always," Dean answered.

"Not great to both your questions," Sam said before quickly changing the subject. "Were you on the phone with Bobby?"

"Yeah," Dean affirmed, deciding to let the other conversation drop for now. "Up for a detour? If I promise, _sincerely_ promise, that I will completely support and help you with anything that you want to do after that?"

"Fine," Sam finally agreed. "Otherwise you're going to be a big pain in my ass, aren't you?"

"Yup," Dean answered with a smile. "That's my job as your big brother, isn't it?"

Sam smiled too and Dean finally felt a little bit of weight shift off of his shoulders.

"But it won't change anything," Sam reminded him before turning serious. "You know that, right? I'm still going to do what I need to do. No matter _what_ happens."

"I know," Dean reluctantly acknowledged, before thinking to himself that another thing that's not going to change is him trying to stop Sam from doing just that.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Sam gave a big sigh, a classic sign that indicated to Dean that his little brother was _finally_ about to say something. And Dean had _been_ waiting for Sam to say something, _anything_, for the past few hours they had been in the car together on the way to Bobby's. He hadn't wanted to push his brother to talk, but Dean was dying to know what was going on in that head of his.

"I, uh, want to apologize for how I acted back in the motel room," Sam began. "If our positions were reversed, I wouldn't have left you alone either, so I had no reason to take _anything_ out on you. Also…also I do realize that this can't be easy on you."

"Easy on _me_?" Dean asked in confusion. "I can handle a little rough housing and lamp throwing, Sammy. Forget about it. Bobby told me once, not long after I got out of hell, that anyone who's been to hell and back has earned more that just a little leeway in the manners department."

"I appreciate that, but that's not exactly what I mean. I shouldn't be…my talking about hell must bring up horrible memories for you-," Sam explained before Dean cut him off.

"Wait," Dean said, "Are you actually trying to make _me_ feel better right now?"

"I just want to say I'm sorry, okay?" Sam snapped before putting his hand to his head, closing his eyes, and settling back into his seat.

It was Dean's turn to sign this time.

"Sure, Sammy," Dean said, although he thought he was the last person Sam should be worrying about. "Apology accepted."

_**That Night at Bobby's House…**_

"You still up, Dean?" Bobby asked after wandering into the kitchen to find the younger man sitting at the kitchen table staring into space.

A full cup of now cold coffee was sitting in front of Dean as he had not touched it since he poured it. Dean didn't realize that he had been lost in thought for so long.

"Yeah," Dean answered as he stood to walk over to the sink where he poured the black liquid down the drain.

"Sam was quiet tonight," Bobby observed.

"Yeah," Dean repeated. "He's been all over the map lately. Angry one minute, talkative the next, and then totally shuts people out. But I was thinking, do you think it's bad for him to talk about hell? That maybe it will weaken the wall around those memories?"

"To be honest, Dean?" Bobby began. "I don't really think it matters."

"What?" Dean asked, caught off guard by the older man's unexpected response.

"What he does or doesn't do…I don't know that any of it will _really_ make a difference in the end," Bobby clarified.

"What the hell are you saying?" Dean asked angrily. "What do you mean by _in the end_?"

"I'm just saying…maybe…maybe instead of fighting him on remembering his time in the pit…we should _help_ him," Bobby explained.

"I _am_ helping him! Does no one see that?" Dean exclaimed. "Keeping him _alive_ is helping him! I don't…I don't need to hear this from you too, Bobby. _Not_ from you!"

"I'm sorry, Dean! Just sometimes…like I said before…what _we_ want for those we love can come from a more selfish place then helping them do what they want," Bobby continued.

"I hear you, I do, and that's your opinion, but HELL NO," Dean replied as he slammed his palms on the counter top. "_I'm_ taking over now. I don't think Sammy's competent to make his own decisions anymore."

"You _really_ believe that?" Bobby challenged.

"I'm tired of this conversation, Bobby," Dean said angrily. "I'm going to bed."

"Don't get angry at me, _boy_," Bobby said. "I've been nothing but here for you both."

"I know, I'm sorry," Dean apologized with a sigh. "It's just been a long few weeks."

"I second that," Bobby agreed. "Let's just play it by ear with Sam and take it one day at a time."

"Sure, okay," Dean agreed.

_**The next morning… **_

Sam stood in front of the mirror in one of Bobby's spare bedrooms, where he had slept on the floor in a sleeping bag, and stared at his reflection in the dusty glass. The old large dresser topped by an equally large mirror was the only remaining piece of furniture in the room, as Bobby had long ago converted the space into one of the many storage areas needed to house his massive and ever expanding collection of papers and books on the supernatural. As usual Sam hadn't slept well, but he had liked the time alone to think, away from Dean or Bobby's scrutinizing glances and questions. He was torn about what to do. Sam didn't want to hurt Dean and of course would be happy never remembering another second of his time hell, but Sam just couldn't ignore what horrors he might have committed while he was soulless. Between a rock and a hard place. Just another typical day in the life of a Winchester.

Sam moved away from the mirror to grab his shirt off of the floor next to his sleeping bag. While he was slipping it on, a flash of movement in his peripheral vision caused him to spin around quickly. Nothing was there. Now _that_ was odd, Sam thought to himself grimly. And new was usually _not_ good. Deciding to chalk it up to lack of sleep for now, Sam next pulled on his pants and then with a sigh of dread, headed downstairs, praying the probing questions would be at a minimum that morning.

Sam was surprised to find only Bobby in the living room, drinking a cup of coffee and paging through a large book.

"Sam," Bobby said in greeting before returning his gaze to the yellowing pages.

"Bobby," Sam said in return. "Dean not up yet?"

"Don't know," Bobby responded without glancing up.

"Hmm," Sammy replied softly before heading into the kitchen to pour his own cup of caffeine.

"_S-ammmm_," A voice echoed from the far side of the kitchen.

Sam spun around, confirming to himself that he was indeed alone.

Sam willed himself not to panic, but he was quickly losing that battle. The voice…that voice sounded so familiar but he could not place it. No matter who the voice belonged to, disembodied voices…not good. _Not_ good at all.

"Now that you're here, there was, uh, something I wanted to ask you, while Dean isn't around," Bobby began after walking into the kitchen a moment.

"Did you…did you just say my name a moment ago?" Sam asked hopefully, trying to keep any fear out of his voice.

"No, why?" Bobby asked in confusion.

"Never mind. What did you want to ask me?" Sam asked quickly to change the subject.

"I wanted to ask...how are you doing lately? Are you okay?" Bobby asked. "Because Dean seems to think…well…that you're not and-."

"I'm fine, Bobby. I'm dealing with it all as good as anyone can," Sam cut off the older man with what he hoped was a convincing smile before taking another sip of his coffee.

"Good, good," Bobby said with a shake of his head. "Okay, then. I'm, uh…going to go back to work."

After the older man left the kitchen, Sam smiled for real. He appreciated Bobby's concern and realized it probably wasn't easy for Bobby to bring up. However, when another sudden flash of movement caught Sam's peripheral vision, his smile quickly vanished. He didn't even bother turning in its direction this time. His heart pounding and feeling as if all of his energy was gone, Sam dropped in to the nearby kitchen chair.

Was this _it_? Was it only a matter of time before he became lost in horrible memories of hell forever? Or was he just simply tired? Sam did recognize that _hearing_ a voice and _seeing _movement_ didn't _seem related to any of his memories of hell. Also, he had been awake all three times, not unconscious on the floor. Sam would say nothing to anyone for now, _especially_ Dean, until he had more information to go on. He was getting scared now, as much as he didn't want to admit it. Willing himself to focus, Sam got up from the chair to head back to his room. Maybe there was some answers in some of Bobby's papers or books in there.

Sam sure as hell prayed that there was.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

_**The Next Morning…**_

Sam groaned as he got out of bed, his muscles unbearably stiff and his head throbbing painfully. Funny how sleep used to make him feel _better_, not _worse _as it now does since his night hours are plagued with increasingly longer nightmares. Oh how he wished he could turn it off, even just for a little while, so he could at least get a few hours of peaceful rest.

"Sa-_am_," a voice echoed to him.

"Show yourself!" Sam yelled, his temper short.

"Fine," a voice hissed from behind.

Sam whipped around to come face to face with a glowing featureless figure in the shape of a man that was at first too bright to look at. Somehow Sam knew instantly that it was Lucifer.

"You are _not_ here! You _can't_ be here!" Sam gasped as he stumbled back against the dresser.

"Maybe I'm not here with _you_…but you are somewhere with me?" Lucifer said cryptically with a big smile before he was instantly inches from Sam and tapped on his chest.

"You couldn't have gotten out of the pit!" Sam yelled.

"That _is_ true," Lucifer agreed as he floated around from the younger Winchester. "And _with _that _being_ true…think in your little mind _how _is it that you are then seeing and talking to me now?"

"Sam? Are you okay? We heard you yelling!" Dean said after he and Bobby rushed into the room.

"You didn't see it?" Sam asked breathlessly as he tried to catch his breath, the room now empty except for the three men. "Standing here with me just now?"

"See what?" Dean asked as he darted his eyes around the room to identify anything suspicious.

Sam shook his head.

"Never mind," Sam said pitifully as he dropped down to sit on the bed.

Bobby nodded at Dean and left the two brothers alone to continue their conversation. Dean next sat down next to his brother who now had his head in his hands.

"What did you see?" Dean asked gently.

"I don't know," Sam answered honestly. "I'm just so exhausted from the nightmares and…and…and my head is killing me, not to mention that my whole body hurts. I just don't know what to do anymore to get past this."

"I'm glad that you're finally starting to open up to me about this, Sammy. Believe you me I know how difficult this must be for you and how sleep…sleep seems like it will never come again. Just…just give it time. Let's focus on you right now, okay? Nothing and no one else until you are 100%," Dean replied. "Please tell me more?" Dean prodded just as gently.

"Uh, Dean, I think I'd like to try to get some more sleep, if that's okay?" Sam asked as another idea came to him. Not that he didn't appreciate his brother's support and he _was_ actually glad he and Bobby had come in to his room when they did, but he needed Dean gone so he could talk to someone else in private.

"I understand. When I got back from hell, I found that sleeping during the daylight was actually much easier," Dean suggested.

"Thanks," Sam said.

"Sure," Dean said with a pat on Sam's back before he got up and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Sam, of course, had not plans for R&R that morning. When he was sure that Bobby and Dean were engrossed in conversation in the kitchen, without a doubt about him, he slipped out the back door and jogged to a far corner of Bobby's property.

"Castiel? Castiel, if you are listening, I really…I _really_ need to talk to you. Please…it's about Lucifer!" Sam called out toward the early morning sky.

"Sam," Castiel greeted him suddenly as he emerged from behind one of the nearby car wrecks.

"Boy, am I glad you are here," Sam said in relief.

"You do not look well," Castiel noted as he walked closer to Sam.

"That's not why I called you," Sam said hurriedly, hoping that their meeting would go completely unnoticed by Dean or Bobby. "Lucifer…he visited me. In…in my room, just a little while ago."

"Impossible," Castiel flatly denied.

"He _was_ there!" Sam implored as he ran a shaking hand through his hair. "But the even stranger thing is that he too said that he _was_ still in the pit…and…and that I was with him instead of him being with me? What the hell does that mean, Castiel?"

"Tell me everything about this encounter and anything of relevance over the past few days," Castiel instructed.

After Sam relayed everything he could remember, he watched as the trench coated angel paced back and forth for a moment.

"Tell me that I was imagining it…that… that it was just a nightmare. _Please_," Sam pleaded.

"I can assure you that Lucifer is still in hell. But I need you to take off your belt and put it between your teeth," the angel demanded.

"What? Why?" Sam asked, taken aback by the angel's out-of-the blue request.

"I need to verify a fact before our discussion progresses further," the angel vaguely replied.

"What are you going to do?" Sam said before he put the leather between his teeth.

"This will be most unpleasant," the angel warned in his usual emotionless tone.

A moment later the dark haired angel thrust his fist into Sam's chest. Sam let out a muffled yell of agony and dropped to the ground as Castiel continued to move his hand around inside.

"This is most unfortunate and just as I had feared," Castiel said as he pulled his hand out of the younger man's chest.

"What?" Sam gasped from his position on the ground as he waited for the pain to subside enough that he could unclench himself from a ball and sit up.

"I'm sorry that I did not make note of this before," Castiel apologized as he resumed his pacing.

"Castiel, what?" Sam asked again with more insistence this time.

"Your soul," Castiel replied.

"What about my soul? I already know that you think it is in such bad shape that I will eventually turn into a vegetable," Sam said as he finally succeeded in sitting up.

"A vegetable?" Castiel asked in confusion.

"Forget it!" Sam yelled, his short temper returning with a vengeance. "_What_ about my soul?"

"It is not whole," Castiel finally explained. "A piece is missing. A piece so small that I did not take notice of it before."

"Missing?" Sam repeated in disbelief as he moved to his knees and then stood.

"Considering that with everything else you described, I believe this very small piece of your soul is still locked with Lucifer in his cage," Castiel explained.

"I don't understand," Sam said in shock now.

"Death did not retrieve your entire soul. Whether he did this knowingly or not, I do not know. Lucifer likely may have been hiding part of it at the time or made some kind of deal with Death," Castiel continued.

"How?" Sam only barely managed to ask.

"This is very rare indeed. Most difficult to do without destroying the soul entirely. But not for Lucifer. Souls are his expertise. He knows that as long as he retains part of your soul, he has a connection to you," Castiel answered.

"You can get it back for me?" Sam asked in almost a whisper, even though he knew the answer before Castiel gave it.

"_I _cannot, Sam. I'm sorry," the angel said.

"Can Death?" Sam asked hopefully.

"I do not know. I will have to consult with others," Castiel asked. "Or Dean may seek out Death once again-,"

"No! No. Don't …we are not going to involve Dean or Bobby until we are absolutely sure what we are dealing with," Sam instructed.

"As you wish," Castiel agreed.

"Do you at least know why I am starting to see him when I am awake?" Sam asked the angel, hoping to learn of a way to stop it.

"The reality that the small part of your _soul_ is experiencing in hell is starting to bleed into _your_ reality here among the living, Sam, that much I know. I also believe this had actually began with what you termed flashbacks. I do not believe you were experiencing flashbacks during those times, but rather a temporary shift in your reality to the reality of hell. I am not sure how else to explain it. As you are now seeing Lucifer when you are awake, I can only assume that whatever was keeping the realities separate is deteriorating at a fast rate. Possibly the wall that Death built around your soul had kept the realities separate...for a time...but now seems to be losing its effectiveness to do so," Castiel hypothesized. "But I do not know for sure. I will do my best to help you. That is all I can promise."

"Worst case scenario?" Sam couldn't help but ask.

"Hell again becomes your permanent and only reality. I will return soon," Castiel replied before he vanished with a gust of air.

"Oh," Sam answered, feeling as if he had been slammed hard in the stomach. Why can't Lucifer just let him go? No. NO! He WAS NOT going back to hell. No matter what. Sam would not accept that. Even with Sam's newfound resolve, he couldn't help the tears that began to slip down his cheeks as he slowly walked back to the house.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Blindsided by the bombshell that Castiel had just dropped on him about the missing part of his soul, Sam let the door slam behind him when he re-entered Bobby's house.

"Damn," Sam cursed under his breath as soon as he realized his mistake.

"Sam? Why were you outside-," Dean began to ask before he obviously read Sam's expression and saw the tears on his cheeks. "What happened? Another flashback?"

Sam quickly wiped his cheeks with the back of his sleeve and paused only long enough to tell Dean "no" before he continued to make his way back to his room.

"Where's the fire? We're not done here yet," Dean said as he grabbed Sam's arm.

"Quit grabbing me all the time!" Sam yelled in annoyance.

"Quit walking away from me when I'm talking to you!" Dean yelled back.

"What's going on now?" Bobby asked as he entered the room, drawn in by the commotion.

"Nothing. Nothing is going on," Sam assured him.

"Ri-_iiight_," Dean agreed sarcastically.

Sam sighed.

"I'm in no mood to fight with you, Dean. Okay?" Sam replied. "Just leave me alone. Let me go to sleep."

"Outside is a funny place for sleep," Dean noted. "And for the millionth time, I am not the enemy here!"

"I never said you were! Just…just stop treating me like a child! I don't have to answer to you about everything!" Sam yelled.

"Hard to stop treating you like a child when you keep acting like one, right Bobby?" Dean asked as he turned to the older man.

"Like I said before," Bobby said. "I ain't getting in the middle of you two."

"Can I have a car, Bobby?" Sam asked so out of the blue that Bobby and Dean both asked "What?" in unison.

"Why?" Dean asked next. "I thought you were going to sleep?"

"Changed my mind," Sam answered, even though he had nowhere to go. Just seemed better to get out of there for a while.

"Forget it!" Dean replied.

"I thought you brought me here for Bobby's help. Not to be a prisoner!" Sam yelled before turning back to Bobby. "_Please_."

Bobby sighed.

"I feel for you, kid. I do. A drive _is_ a good way to clear your head. I just don't think it's a good idea _right now_," Bobby answered.

Sam didn't hear his response, distracted by the increasing brightness in the room.

"What?" Sam asked Bobby as he was forced to squint at the offensive light.

"What's wrong?" Sam heard Dean ask before the room was completely lost in bright, white light.

"_What's wrong_?" Sam heard another male voice repeat in a mocking tone.

"Lucifer," Sam said into the whiteness.

"Yeah. Thought I'd save you from your brother's mother hen crap," the voice said as the light in the room receded until the only source of the brightness was Lucifer's shape.

Sam did not reply as he looked around. He didn't recognize where they were.

"Took the liberty of changing the scenery for you as well. You don't need to drive anywhere to do that. I'm happy to oblige," Lucifer continued as he motioned around the room which now looked like a motel room he and Dean would stay in.

"What do you want now?" Sam asked, doing his best to keep the fear out of his voice.

"You've been talking to my old pal Castiel, so don't you have it all figured out now?" Lucifer asked as he circled Sam.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!" Sam yelled at the glowing figure, although it was still so hard to look directly at him.

"Is this easier for you?" Lucifer asked before he suddenly morphed into Dean. "Or this?" he asked before changing again into Bobby and then lastly into his father.

"Stop!" Sam yelled and knew he was starting to lose it already.

"Let's be clear about something," Lucifer said before he morphed back into Dean. "_I_ am in control here. You understand _nothing_. When I want you to know something or _do_ something,_ I_ will tell you. Let's be clear about something else as well. You also don't understand the meaning of the word torture. Now that…_that_ I do want you to know about."

When Lucifer began to walk toward him and knives shot out from the palms of his hands, Sam backed away, desperate for escape, even though he knew there wasn't any.

"Sam! Sam!" Dean yelled desperately as he leaned over his brother. "Bobby, what do we do?"

"I don't know!" Bobby yelled back. "Did anything work last time to bring him around?"

"No," Dean replied.

"This is new territory, kid," Bobby said. "I'm sorry. I just don't know what to do here."

"I don't either," Dean said with determination as he stood up. "But maybe someone else does. I'm getting Castiel here _now."_

_Five Days Later…_

"Dean," Castiel greeted in his usual monotone voice.

"Dean? _Dean_! Don't _Dean_ me!" Dean hissed angrily at the angel. Where the _HELL_ have you been?"

"I apologize. I have been…unavailable," Castiel answered calmly.

"For _FIVE_ days?" Dean yelled, not caring how loud his voice was getting now.

"How can I assist you?" Castiel asked, still annoyingly calm.

"Take it easy, kid," Bobby said as he lightly touched Dean's arm. "Sorry, we, uh…haven't gotten much sleep lately. Sam has been…down…for five days now and we can't seem to get him back. Let me explain-."

"No need," Castiel interrupted. "I am aware."

"You are _aware_?" Dean echoed. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Sam came to me a few days ago," Castiel began.

"Wait. Wait! A few days ago or exactly FIVE days ago?" Dean said as he began to put it all together. "Was seeing you why he was outside that day?"

"Yes," Castiel agreed.

"Why didn't you say anything? Come to us? We've been going crazy here and you ARE AWARE?" Dean yelled as charged toward the angel before he hit what felt like a wall.

"DO NOT forget who I am," Castiel warned. "I will help as much as I can, but I will not stand for inappropriate behavior."

"Again, sorry," Bobby said in an attempt to again dial down the tension in the room. "What do you know?"

"He summoned me five days ago and described what was happening to him. How it was…progressing. Asked me questions. That is when we learned about…well, he told me that he did not plan to inform the two of you until he had more information. However, under the circumstances, I believe full disclosure would be most wise," the angel said.

"You think?" Dean agreed sarcastically.

"Please tell us what happened," Bobby asked Castiel, knowing how badly they needed the angel's help and it was unlikely a pissed off angel would be of any help to them or Sam.

After Castiel relayed to them the conversation he had with Sam, Bobby and Dean were stunned into silence for a moment.

"Wow," Dean finally managed to say.

"Yeah," Bobby agreed.

"So you were gone for days, trying to figure out a way to help Sammy?" Dean asked, sorry now that he had been rude.

"Precisely," Castiel confirmed, "I have a possible solution, but first I need to know if Lucifer has told Sam anything else regarding his motives for keeping part of his soul. I was not able to find out any additional information on that front."

"I'd ask him for him, but SAM'S NOT HOME RIGHT NOW!" Dean yelled as he motioned at the unconscious body of his brother.

Bobby sighed.

"Can you snap Sam out of this?" Bobby asked.

"I believe I can. For how long, I do not know," Castiel explained.

"We'll take it," Bobby said.

"Very well," Castiel replied before walking over to Sam and touching his forehead.

Bobby and Dean watched as Sam's eyelid's fluttered before opening completely a moment later.

"Sammy?" Dean asked gently as he looked down on his brother.

Sam raised his arm and swung, but Dean was ready this time and easily avoided the blow. Dean wasn't ready for what came next. Sam stood up quickly and backed into a corner of the room before beginning to moan and wail so pitifully that it was difficult for Dean to hear. Breathing quickly, Sam's eyes darted around the room as if he did not recognize his surroundings before finally settling on the other three men.

"It's okay," Dean reassured him as he moved closer. "You're okay now!"

Sam went silent for a moment before finally raising his arm slowly and pointing at Castiel.

"_You_," Sam said in a hoarse voice. "You are _not _allowed here!"

"Did Lucifer tell you that, Sam?" Castiel asked. "What else did he tell you? I need to know if I am-."

"_SHUT UP_!" Sam yelled as he pushed against the wall behind him as support to shakily stand up.

"It's okay, son," Bobby said, unsure of what else to say.

"No! NO! NO!" Sam began to yell over and over before he slid back down the wall, put his head in his heads and drew his knees up to his chest.

"What do we do?" Dean asked the pair desperately. He thought waking Sam up would be better. This was NOT better. Not by a long shot.

Sam suddenly gave an almost primal sounding yell before starting to pound his head back against the wall.

"Sam, stop!" Dean implored as he rushed over to his brother in an attempt to calm his self-destructive behavior.

Without a word, Castiel pushed Dean aside, grabbed Sam's shoulders, pulled him up as he weighed no more than a feather, and wrenched him around until the two were looking into each other's eyes.

"I want you to tell me exactly what Lucifer told you about why he kept part of your soul," Castiel stated slowly as the two maintained their unbroken gaze.

Dean watched Sam go still, appearing to be held up in the standing position mostly by Castiel, before he began to speak.

"He says he will only release the part of my soul when he is released," Sam answered in a trance-like state as he continued to stare.

"Or what?" Castiel asked.

"He will torture me for eternity," Sam answered in the same monotone voice.

Dean clenched his jaw and resisted the temptation to punch his fist through the wall.

"Did he say if Death knew that he left part of your soul with Lucifer?" Castiel asked next.

"No," Sam responded.

"What else do you remember?" Castiel asked.

"I remember everything now…from the moment we fell into the pit. He said he wanted me to remember everything he did to me…and to know that it will only be worse for me still if he is not freed," Sam answered.

"Hmm," Castiel said as he touched Sam's forehead again and lowered his limp body to the floor.

"What now?" Dean asked anxiously, unable to tear his eyes off of Sam.

"We must act. I must take him now before his soul is so ravaged that it is unrecognizable," Castiel said. "Without the majority of his soul to connect to, the small part of Sam's soul that Lucifer has will be rendered impotent."

"What do you mean by take him now?" Dean asked.

"Take him with me to heaven," Castiel answered matter of factly.

"What?" Dean asked again in stunned disbelief. "Like permanently?"

"Yes," Castiel confirmed. "Lucifer must not be released and Sam must not be left with him to suffer."

"So you want to _kill_ him?" Dean yelled. "_How_ is dying the best choice?"

"Dean, returning home to the Lord is always the best choice," Castiel replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Do you hear this guy?" Dean said to Bobby.

"Yeah, I do, kid," Bobby answered without sarcasm. "We probably should at least consider it."

"What? Has everyone gone crazy?" Dean yelled.

"Look, Dean. I don't want Sam to suffer anymore. He can't stay in the pit with Lucifer and even if that part of his soul is released by letting Lucifer free, you know that Lucifer will continue to hunt your brother down until he is his meat suit again!" Bobby continued.

"We are talking about _killing_ Sammy here, Bobby!_ Not_ going to happen! Not after all this! Sam deserves to live! Sam deserves for me to save him!" Dean countered.

"He's a hunter, Dean. Always will be. Just like you and me. Heaven is not an option for most of us after the lives we have led. Let Sam finally be at peace," Bobby said, his voice quivering a bit now before continuing. "Let him go."

Dean clenched his jaw before Castiel added, "Sam's soul was already significantly damaged before this recent…time with Lucifer. You saw how Sam behaved when I brought him back just for a few minutes. He is not your brother anymore. The only one who can save him now is God."

"Listen to me very carefully, _both_ of you. Like I told Sam before. I am not going to let him go. Not ever. Not until he is safe and happy and living the life he deserves. NOT UNTIL THEN!" Dean yelled with tears in his eyes. "There _has_ to be another way that I can save him!"

"There is," another male voice replied from the far end of the room. All three turned in that direction to see Death standing next to a long table covered in a red and white checkered tablecloth with two open pizza boxes. "Glad to finally join the party. Brought refreshments from a pizza establishment called "The O" near Pittsburgh. Ever been there, Dean?"

"Did you know?" Dean yelled as he stormed over to the table.

"Know what?" Dean asked with a slight smile as Death took a bite of the steaming cheese and sauce covered dough before sitting down.

"That you _didn't_ do the job! That you left part of Sam's soul in the pit with Lucifer!" Dean yelled.

"Oh, that," Death responded in his usual calm tone. "We can talk more about that if you would like to join me?"

"We don't have time for a meal here!" Dean yelled. "Sam is in a lot of trouble _right_ _now_!"

"There is _always_ time for a meal," Death replied in a tone that Dean knew the invitation was mandatory for further discussion to ensue.

Dean sat down and picked up the piece of pizza Death laid down in front of him on a paper plate.

"Why did you leave part of his soul with Lucifer?" Dean asked angrily.

"If your brother had not disturbed my barrier around his soul, it would _not_ have provided a bridge back to Lucifer so soon," Death said.

"Again, beside the point!" Dean yelled. "You left behind part of his soul…on purpose…and didn't tell me!"

"Do you wish to move beyond this new revelation of yours to other matters?" Death finally agreed.

"Why are you here?" Castiel barked.

Death took another slow bite before answering.

"I have a business proposition for Dean," he explained.

"A deal?" Bobby yelled. "You want to make a _deal_?"

"Not a deal!" Death yelled before regaining his composure and lowering his voice again. "_Demons_ make deals. As I said, I would like to make a _business proposition_."

"What kind of business proposition?" Dean asked, intrigued now.

"What does it matter, Dean?" Bobby said as he walked over to the younger man. "You can't trust him!"

"I propose that I can retrieve the final part of Sam's soul and therefore break any remaining ties with Lucifer and hell," Death answered after ignoring Bobby.

"In exchange for what?" Castiel inquired.

"Dean's service," Death replied.

"What?" Dean asked in confusion, not comprehending what Death would want him for.

"When you die of natural causes, or as natural as the causes may be as you are a hunter, you work for me. I enjoyed your short employment with me and I could use more…days off," Death explained.

"For how long?" Dean asked, realizing that Death's option, no matter what it may be, may be the only option he would have to seriously consider. He would not consider Sam dying, Lucifer going free, or Sam being stuck in the pit forever with the torturing fallen angel.

"Dean!" Bobby yelled. "Forget it! This has to end now! No more deals!"

"This _will_ end," Dean decided as he stood up. "But _not_ with Sam. Sam will _not_ pay anymore. He has done enough. For ALL of us! Can you put up another wall around his soul?"

"I can…smooth out the rough edges a bit, so to speak. He will remember everything, but with… perspective," Death offered.

"Dean, any consideration of this proposition is most unwise," Castiel intervened.

"I'm not considering it," Dean said as he stood. "I'm _accepting_ it."

"_No_!" Bobby yelled.

Death smiled, pulled his napkin off of his lap, and stood as well.

"Very good," he said as next held out his ring finger.

Dean clenched his jaw and without further hesitation kissed Death's ring.

"It is done," Death confirmed before he vanished.

A few seconds later Death reappeared over Sam, his bag in his hand. He opened his bag and pulled out a small glowing ball before inserting it and his entire hand into Sam's chest. Sam's body arched and then went limp again. Death smiled once more at Dean and then vanished.

"Sam would not want this!" Bobby insisted to Dean.

"He doesn't have to know!" Dean replied.

"We're back to lying to him again? Because that worked out so well for you in the past?" Bobby yelled.

"Who cares what I did? Sam is okay now," Dean said as he stroked his brother's hair. "He's going to wake up now and be fine. Everything will be fine.

"Dean," Castiel said. "Sam's soul may be whole now, but he is far from healed! There is no guarantee that Death will be any more successful this time in keeping Sam from complete deterioration!"

"There was no other choice. And just keep this in mind, Bobby, that if I die before you, I'll make sure you get a really hot reaper," Dean joked. "No...no a hot _naked_ reaper."

"You are joking with me about this?" Bobby yelled in disbelief. "And you didn't even ask for...for any details from Death! You're that ready to offer yourself up?"

"Just help me get him to a bed, Bobby?" Dean asked the older man instead of answering his question.

Bobby hesitated, completely against what the younger man did, but knowing what was done was done.

"Thanks anyway, Castiel," Dean began, knowing that Castiel was only trying to help, but the angel was already gone.

Dean decided not to focus on his friend's unannounced departure and took Sam's shoulders as Bobby took his feet.

_Later that Night…_

"Dean?" Sam called with difficulty. His throat was so dry. His head also hurt bad . Hell, his whole body hurt bad. Then he remembered and sat up quickly in alarm. Sam felt instant relief when he quickly recognized he was in one of Bobby's rooms and was very relieved to see his brother as well.

"It's okay, Sam," Dean said before raising the volume of his voice. "Hey, Bobby? Can you bring a glass of water for Sam?"

"What happened?" Sam asked. "The last thing I remember is…literally hitting my head against the wall."

"Death, uh, Death came back and brought the piece of your soul with him," Dean said as Bobby entered the room with a glass and handed it to the younger man.

"So he_ didn't_ know Lucifer had it? Who told him then? Castiel?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Dean answered, uncomfortable with the questioning in front of Bobby now. "How do you feel?"

"Physically, I hurt like hell, to be honest with you. Mentally, well, I still remember everything, but it's like all a bit fuzzy. More like I'm watching my memories…like a movie…than being the star of the show. Does that…does that make sense at all?"

"Sure, it does," Dean said, glad that Death had seemed to come through with his part of the deal. "And we'll get through it. All of it."

"So it _is_ over now?" Sam asked as he shakily took another sip of water.

"Yeah, Sammy," Dean confirmed. "It's over."

"Liar," Bobby commented in a low voice so only Dean could hear as he walked past Dean and out of the room.

**THE END**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing! Hope you enjoyed it!**


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